Second Iteration
by Twilitbeing
Summary: The total momentum of a closed system cannot change. How, then, can two people lost in deep space return to their home planet, thousands of light-years away? Part of a collab/AU project with XT-421's "Seed of Love" series; counterpart to "Sero et Umbra."
1. Chapter I: Valediction

***crack* _SSSSSssssssss_...**

**Oh, hey everyone. Twilitbeing here, just coming out for some fresh air and a little creative exercise after my YEAR-LONG CRYONIC STASIS PERIOD. Having just finished off two short essays in the span of a single day, I thought this might be a decent time to pry open the small planet that has become my writer's block. And what better way to generate the pressure I need than using months-old writing to create the illusion of productivity?**

**This particular story runs parallel to _Sero et Umbra_, written and published on this website by XT-421. (I recommend his other work as well, but be warned: the man is quite insane.) He conceived the basic plot, and the story is best understood as an AU to his _Seed of Love_ series. He's given me permission to use his flagship character and other parts of his continuity on a "read-only" basis. If you're concerned over which elements are from Sonic canon, XT's work, or my own invention, feel free to contact me.**

**Engage.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter I - <strong>Valediction<strong>

I watched it all.

I saw his face as he wrestled with the decision in his mind. It was the height of foolishness – the fate of the universe against one girl? How could he have taken so long?

But don't mind anything that robot says; it was only taught to consider material evidence. In the moment of truth, Xavier Truthfinder, the only part of me worth listening to, was just as shocked as anyone. I still am. To this day, I wonder how he did it – not because he would ever choose one girl over the universe, but because, in his eyes, one girl _was_ the universe.

Miles "Tails" Prower, you are a force to be reckoned with.

But what you remember, and think you know, is wrong. For I watched the scene myself, her decision as well as yours. She's alive and healing slowly.

Allow me to recount the event in greater detail.

* * *

><p>The moment Sonic and Shadow blasted through Dark Oak's barrier, his fate was sealed. The assembled might of the Master Emerald and its seven satellites cracked the massive construct like an egg, and with its destruction, an empire – a machine so vast as to threaten life itself – fell eternally silent. The Metarex were scattered to oblivion by the power they had tried to claim as their own, their omnipresent shadow swept away in the light of the impact.<p>

In simple terms, Cosmo and Lucas died, the galaxy was saved, and a dear friend of lifekind's heroes was lost. Sonic and Shadow hesitated for a mere moment, then unleashed Chaos Regeneration, hoping that its incredible healing ability could conquer death itself.

It worked. I saw it. Cosmo's ethereal form – don't ask me to explain, I don't even believe in spirits – wandered about for a few tenths of a second and vanished inside her reconstructing body. Because the light was so strong, Shadow and Sonic never saw her appear; they only felt the drain on their energy reserves, telling them _something_ had formed inside. At that moment, a seed – one of thousands scattered from Cosmo's destroyed adult form – chanced to be caught by Sonic as its brethren floated away into space.

At some point, Cosmo's spirit must have visited Tails and bidden him farewell. I recovered every memory of the event during my investigations. Tails still swears to himself that he was kissed by her, despite his every instinct that such things are impossible.

The next moments went as follows.

Shadow sucker-punched Sonic in the gut, knocking him unconscious, and tossed him toward the docked _Blue Typhoon _and _Crimson Egg_. He then removed his power bracers and executed an overpowered Chaos Control on the rapidly destabilizing anomaly, encompassing everything within several miles. A split second later, the energy of thousands of universes erupted in a single flash.

It was predicted that anything caught in the explosion would be destroyed instantly. This assumption, though not entirely unreasonable, was wrong on two counts. First, there was no explosion of the traditional sort, just a discharge of concentrated light. Second, the scope of its destruction had little to do with distance. Under Dark Oak's control, it would have unquestionably enveloped the _Typhoon_, not to mention a number of globular clusters scattered around the core region. As it was, the Planet Eggs themselves directed the outpouring of energy; the Metarex Navy was reduced to mere atoms, while our heroes escaped without a scratch.

Perhaps the blast would have recharged them to some degree, returning the energy stolen from them by the construct. Perhaps they would have been swept back to Möbius as their own Egg set a course for home. Perhaps they would have simply been left alone in space – maybe a little shaken, but none the worse for wear. Whatever the case, Shadow used a regional Chaos Control to warp everything away from the ship – the Planet Eggs, the Metarex Navy, even the anomaly itself – and, most importantly, Cosmo. Sonic handed the seed to Tails a few minutes later, and an all-too-familiar spectacle unfolded before my eyes.

* * *

><p>What follows is not something I cannot explain. I have never experienced it, and all my attempts to simulate it have fallen short. I can watch, listen, monitor biosigns... but to investigate the cause, to think my subjects' thoughts and share their emotions, is beyond what I dare attempt. Nevertheless, my story is incomplete without this crucial piece, so I will tell it as well as I am able: by relating more of my direct observations than usual and by applying some careful guesswork.<p>

* * *

><p>Tails examined the object in his hand, started to ask what it meant, and fell abruptly silent as he saw his friend's expression. Sonic grappled with an answer, not meeting the captain's eyes, and managed only a disconnected apology. Tails took a subconscious step backward, unnerved. He spoke two words – a truncated, confused plea for explanation. Sonic sighed and answered in a voice barely above a whisper.<p>

As he spoke, Tails' perplexed frown shifted to an expression of dawning realization. There was a momentary pause, an ellipsis, followed by six of the hardest words ever spoken.

"That was all I could find."

Tails' reaction was rapid, dramatic, and (as tactless as it sounds) fascinating to behold. His heart palpitated violently for about a second, as if it were struggling to adjust its rhythm. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his lungs. A deep, paralyzing chill swept through his body, mirrored by a slight bristling of his fur. His stared at the seed in his hand with new eyes, trying to grasp the knowledge of what he was seeing.

Scores of people from many worlds and ages have tried to capture this experience. I remember a human who likened it to climbing upstairs in the dark, miscounting, and stepping down through empty air; another described jumping into deep water and finding it unexpectedly cold. Both metaphors convey a sense of upset, a feeling of imbalance and sudden vulnerability, which I imagine can be only too accurate. The structure of Miles Prower's world had shifted, leaving him as bewildered and helpless as if the _Typhoon_'s deck had vanished from beneath his feet.

Eventually Tails' held breath escaped; his lungs worked is shallow, spasmodic gasps. The outline of a name – _her_ name – formed silently on his lips. He blinked, and a single bead of moisture escaped his eye, tracing a path slowly down his muzzle. His breathing became deeper, less irregular, while muscles of his face and jaw started to twitch and shiver uncontrollably. The trembling spread through his body, intensifying every second.

At that point, something must have computed in Tails' mind. I can only guess what, but it took hold of his consciousness and galvanized him to action. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and formed both hands into fists – no longer trembling, but shaking with directionless violence. Muscles strained against each other as reason battled impulse for control of his body. He saw nothing, heard nothing; the seed was all but forgotten, replaced by the name that was (to him) naught but a memory.

Numbly, Tails staggered forward to Sonic – his friend, his brother, his one resolute anchor in a disrupted world. He managed four words – a whispered question that was all he could express of the profound disarray he felt.

Sonic had no answer, and the kitsune's confusion gave way to anger. He cried freely and shouted his frustration to the universe, desperate for some reason, any reason, to make sense of its injustice. His fists pounded weakly against Sonic's chest – blows that must have taken all of his willpower to restrain.

Before long, Tails' strength failed; he sank to the _Typhoon_'s deck, his thoughts dissolving into turmoil. He struggled to contain himself, but found no words strong enough for the task. He gave up; the last tethers of discipline snapped, and he uttered a cry which, once heard, can never be forgotten.

It is the sound of person's heart rending in two.

* * *

><p>This is where I come in. I am Xavier, model number XT-421 of the Rinocian Empire. I am a fully sentient, artificially intelligent life-form on a mission to heal the hearts of lovers throughout existence. This time I am returning – intervening on young Miles Prower's behalf for the second time.<p>

You see, I have learned that I cannot reshape history, only create new timelines of which my actions are a part. Every single time I go to a timeline, I create a solution, but another problem remains; thus, as you have seen, my beneficiaries become my long-time charges. Hopefully, by trial and error, I will eventually master the technique of leaving no trace upon the worlds I visit. Until then, I will take pleasure in healing hearts over again.

This is the story of my first experiment. Universe: XI Tet-42997, second iteration. Point of entry: SBbc "Milky Way," sector 0-0-0, T+00:10:45 Metarex Forestation calendar. Subject: Cpt. Miles Prower, Sol III. Objective: great justice.

* * *

><p>Cosmo and Shadow floated in empty space, both unconscious and drained. The bracers for Shadow's wrists had drifted away, leaving him without his energy reserves. Cosmo, her body newly reconstructed, had no energy to begin with. They were in a kind of stasis, not biologically dead, but immobile – a machine without its power supply.<p>

The light from the recently collapsed core was warm, pleasant, and seemingly imbued with feelings of gratitude and benevolence. Cosmo's eyes drifted open as a sudden burst of energy kick-started her system.

_Where am I?_ was her first thought. She frowned, recalling her most recent memories – the memories of another life. _ Wait..._ Her eyes widened at a sudden realization. _A__m I dead? _Another frown; the starry backdrop turned slowly past her vision, punctuated by points of light occasionally streaking past._ I must be... I couldn't have survived that... but... why does it feel so much like being alive?_

Bemused, she watched one of the traveling lights pass close by, masking the stars with a soft, slightly turquoise glow. Despite its brilliance, the object itself was very small – no more than half a meter across, if that – but its comet-like tail seemed to stretch out for miles. _A Planet Egg_, Cosmo thought, comforted in its presence. Suddenly, a strange idea struck her: _Does it know I'm here?_

As if in answer, the Planet Egg swept across her path, enveloping her in a cone of luminescence that surrounded the dense primary tail. Whether the stream was composed of matter or energy was difficult to tell; Cosmo perceived only a vague tingling and a revitalizing surge of heat, not unlike the first rays of a rising sun. The energy felt kind, reassuring, as if the Egg were telling her not to worry. _All will be right. You are safe now._

A part of Cosmo wanted to agree, but a lifetime spent surviving the perils of war had taught her not to accept anything without question. "What's going to happen?" she asked aloud, knowing somehow that she would be heard.

_There is nothing to fear._

"How do you know?" Cosmo persisted, forgetting the entity she was conversing with. The Planet Egg shifted its position relative to her, causing the stream of energy to waver for a moment.

_Trust,_ it seemed to be saying. _All will be right._

"'Trust'?" Cosmo repeated, perplexed. "Trust who?"

In response, the Egg changed course again, taking off on a separate path. "No, wait!" Cosmo called after it, horrified at the thought of being left alone.

_...nothing to fear..._ the Planet Egg repeated, the warmth from its tail diminishing as it appeared smaller and smaller every second. The crystalline shape vanished once more into a star-like glow, and deep space suddenly felt cold and desolate. Just as Cosmo was about to turn away in disappointment, a dark form caught her eye, silhouetted against the departing stream of light. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to recognize the outline.

_Shadow? What's he doing here?_

The unconscious body of the Ultimate Life-Form floated mere feet from her, little more than a patch of blackness against the star-flecked sky. The two drifted in space like a pair of rag dolls, Cosmo marveling at her good fortune; the odds of them being hurled on such close trajectories had to be astronomical. She extended a hand, hoping to wake him for some answers, but found his arm just beyond her reach.

"Shadow?" Cosmo asked, fighting the urge to struggle in his direction. "Shadow, are you... can you hear me?"

A quiet, guttural growl came from Shadow's throat, prompting Cosmo to give a sigh of relief. She withdrew her outstretched arm – noting that her body moved forward slightly in the process – and watched for more signs of life.

"Cos... mo..." Shadow groaned, cracking his eyelids open a small amount. He blinked, scrutinizing her face. "I'll be damned. It worked." He took a breath and exhaled slowly as if testing his lungs for injury, eyes wandering over the scenery.

"Shadow..." Cosmo began, hesitating over the strangeness of the question, "...are we dead?"

"I doubt it." Shadow shifted his body, uttering a pained grunt. "You just asked a question, and I just answered it. We're both here."

"We could be spirits, couldn't we?" Cosmo replied, remembering dreamlike visions following the impact of the cannon. Shadow's right eyebrow arched.

"You believe in spirits?"

"I spoke with Tails just a moment ago. I don't mean with my adult form, I mean _inside the bridge_. That has to count for something."

"Suit yourself. I don't believe in what can't be killed," Shadow replied. His eyes swept across their surroundings again. "Still, being in the physical plane does raise the question... where are we?"

"I..." Cosmo looked around as well, but space presented no landmarks. "I can't tell, I'm sorry."

"No apologies," Shadow instructed curtly.

"I'm-" Cosmo stopped herself mid-sentence.

Shadow nodded, apparently satisfied with her response. "So we're not dead, but we might as well be," he mused, scanning the sky yet again. "We're adrift in space without a single star for light-years." He spoke in a level, matter-of-fact tone, hiding any emotion perfectly.

"So... we're doomed?" Cosmo asked, remembering the Planet Egg's assurances: _All will be right._

"No," Shadow replied. He continued watching the stars for several seconds before speaking again. "Can you reach over here?"

"I tried when you were unconscious..." Cosmo began.

"Use your amulet," Shadow interrupted.

The Seedrian hesitated, then looked down at the front of her dress. To her surprise, the oval-shaped gem was fastened exactly as it had been before her transformation, evidently restored along with her body. However, a web of hairline cracks were visible just below the surface, marring its once-flawless interior. "I can't," Cosmo replied in disappointment. "I must have used all my power for the transformation."

"Throw it," Shadow said. Cosmo looked at him, uncomprehending. "Out into space," he clarified, pointing directly behind her.

"What, just... throw it away?" she asked, clutching the stone in both hands as if it might perform the action of its own accord.

"Better it than you," the hedgehog replied. With a bizarre twist of his spine, Shadow oriented his body to face her. Cosmo looked at her amulet again, uncertain. Despite its familiar ruby-like sheen, the crystal contained no sign of the faint incandescence that had once emanated from its heart. It appeared dull and lifeless – a mere copy of the one she had worn as long as she could remember.

Cosmo sighed, unhooked the gem from its clasp, and searched the sky for a suitable target. A small triangle formed by three golden points of light caught her eye; she fixated on this, moving the amulet back and forth in her hands to get a feel for its weight. A few seconds passed in silence. Finally, Cosmo took a breath, drew back her arm, and hurled the crystal into the void. She spotted one final glint of light from its polished surface, then nothing.

"Shadow?" she called after several tense seconds.

"Don't move," his voice replied. "It worked."

Cosmo released the breath she had been holding and waited for the reassuring contact of another being on her wrist or forearm. Instead, she felt a brief push against her upper back as if to stabilize her, followed immediately by Shadow's arm darting under her own and hooking her with his elbow. A hand seized her dress, and she recognized the distinctive sound of tearing fabric.

The Seedrian gave an alarmed cry and pulled away, instinctively swinging her one free arm at the perceived aggressor. She felt something softer than bone connect with her elbow; Shadow uttered a growl of pain and recoiled, his steadying hold vanishing. Cosmo felt her heart freeze as the world inverted around her, and for one terrifying moment she was alone in unending darkness.

The next instant, a hand shot out of somewhere and closed around hers, stopping her motion with a jerk. Cosmo came to her senses after a short pause and found herself face to face with Shadow.

"Do _not_ push me!" he growled, glaring at her with scarlet eyes. His voice was uncannily quiet; every syllable spoke of barely controlled fury, making it far more intimidating than a shout. He pulled Cosmo closer and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"You see that?" he demanded, pointing at their linked hands. "That's how close I was to missing! Suppose you went into a fetal position! Suppose you hit me in the eye! Where would you be then?"

Cosmo shook her head mutely, nearly on the brink of tears. Shadow had every right to be angry with her, but his expression indicating something much closer to fear. "I- I'm sorry," she stuttered out, looking anywhere other than his face.

"No apologies," Shadow snapped, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his forehead. His grip on Cosmo's hand shifted slightly as the minutes passed in silence.

"We lose each other out here, that's it," he said, lowering his hand, all visible signs of emotion gone. "No more second chances, you understand? _Ludus perficitur._" Cosmo said nothing, only nodded. "Good."

On that note, he rotated Cosmo to face away from him and tore the rest of the way across the fabric, ending with a petal-shaped section of her skirt in his hand. "What's that for?" Cosmo inquired.

"You'll have to sleep eventually." Shadow kept tearing, dividing the material lengthwise into quarters. Though delicate in appearance, it was tough and fibrous like a corn husk – exactly what the task at hand required. In less than a minute, the scrap of clothing had become a five-foot tether between the two coasting figures.

Silence again reigned for several minutes. Cosmo watched the cord unwind slowly as they drifted apart, eventually pulling taught and starting to rotate around their combined center of mass. A sense of weight asserted itself – slight, but reassuring nonetheless.

"Shadow..." Cosmo began, carefully breaking the silence, "why do you care?"

"Care?" Apart from his reply, Shadow remained still and immobile, watching the sky ahead of them.

"About getting me back."

Shadow turned to look at her, thoughtful. "Why shouldn't I care?" he asked. "You're no threat, not with the Metarex gone."

"But why risk your life?" she persisted. "You could be on the _Typhoon_right now, and I could be gone."

"Yet we're both here," Shadow answered.

"Exactly," Cosmo continued. "And I know that didn't happen by chance.

Shadow sighed, folding his arms with an air of dignified surrender. "You're right, it wasn't by chance. Your death was undeserved, and Sonic and I made sure to correct it. But we couldn't bring you back, not with Dark Oak's planet about to go critical."

"So you stayed behind?"

Shadow nodded. "I figure, if a child can root herself in front of a cannon and give the order to fire, the Ultimate Life-Form can do without gravity for a few days." He paused and uttered a quiet cough, clearing his throat. "You should sleep," he advised.

Even as he said it, Cosmo became aware of a sudden, overpowering exhaustion. "Yes, I think so..." she mumbled, deciding not to wonder about the hedgehog's impeccable timing. "Shadow?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

The Ultimate Life-Form turned his gaze to the faint band of stars ahead of them. "When we get home," was his only reply.

* * *

><p>Twenty-five light-years distant, a colossus of steel and aluminum glided silently toward home. A lone figure sat motionless at her helm, watching the slow movement of hundreds of thousands of stars and seeing none of them. He thought of nothing, save she who had once possessed his heart – she whose death would eternally disfigure his conscience. Not once did he suspect that, at that very moment, her thoughts dwelt upon him as well.<p>

As he stared into space, his gaze spoke of wisdom beyond his years. He was a child of war, tempered by suffering that many people would never know – the embodiment of all that lifekind could be and everything it endeavored to prevent.

A brilliant flash – the captain's eyes darted toward the source, watching as it traced a luminescent arc across the sky. The sight was unlike anything he had seen before – a faint cone surrounding a bright tail, glowing soft white with a tinge of blue-green. The light seemed to speak as he gazed upon it in wonder.

_Hope,_ it told him. _All will be right._


	2. Chapter II: Mechanics

**A note on updating: I'm not sure how XT is handling this, but I'm following my usual procedure of posting each chapter as it is completed, with one modification. In order to avoid cross-contamination between our stories while still providing each other with feedback, XT and I wait to read new chapters until AFTER posting our own. We'll try to coordinate things so updates to each story happen at about the same time.**

**Given my typical update schedule, I'll most likely be setting the pace for this project. Direct any impatience at me rather than XT.**

* * *

><p>Chapter II – <strong>Mechanics<strong>

Needless to say, I was surprised.

My original mission in this universe was, and had always been, to prevent or reverse Cosmo's death; that she could have survived without my intervention wasn't something I ever considered. It changed everything.

Let me be clear: there was never an inherent _need_ for me to take action, at least as far as I could predict. Self-consistency only applies to events within a single iteration of a single universe; I leave my past work behind me with every jump, wiping the slate clean of all but my own memories. No, what startled me about what I had just witnessed was that it not only happened of its own accord, but was perfectly consistent with my knowledge of the first iteration. All throughout the years I spent working my magic on Möbius, these same events could have occurred right under my sensors.

What was a reality-warper to do? One impulsive moment, and fluctuations, duplications, annihilations, and paradoxes of every conceivable variety and many more besides could be set into motion. To think I had been meandering around the multiverse, changing lives and reshaping history, for the equivalent of several centuries... There were too many implications to calculate.

All of which only confirmed my reasons for coming back at all: I needed to study and refine my technique.

Then and there – around Y+160,000 Forestation and on the fringe of the Large Magellanic Cloud, respectively; I didn't want to attract attention – I decided to watch things play out before making my move. After double-checking my figures and working through the necessary calculations, I kicked off, getting the first real use in ages out of my gravitic thruster. Meanwhile, the asteroid I had been resting on gave a fantastic demonstration of _why_ I didn't use it more often.

Within seconds, everything was tinted by my speed: bright blue ahead, deep red to the rear. I let off on the thruster and coasted, maintaining a tiny fraction of motive power to push through the interstellar medium. To the left, my sensors spotted a thin arch of brightly lit cloud – the day side of a gas giant. I clocked it as I passed and determined that I was tolerably close to my predicted velocity of 98.5666 percent (repeating, of course) of the speed of light.

The best part? I could still see everything.

* * *

><p><em>Where am I?<em> was Cosmo's first thought. She frowned, recalling her most recent memories – memories of another life. _Wait... that was real?_ She turned the question over in her mind. _It must have been. I'm here, right?_

It occurred to her to open her eyes; a vast field of stars and glowing nebulae met her vision. For a moment, she wondered whether the last time could have been a dream – whether, indeed, she could have been dreaming still. She discarded that idea quickly; if neither memory were real, she would be dead and unable to consider the problem. _Besides_- Abruptly, the sensation of spinning through empty space flashed through her mind. She shuddered. _There's no way I imagined that._

This resolved, Cosmo turned her head forward – or was it upward? – and saw a narrow stripe of total darkness cutting across the backdrop of stars. She gripped it with her hand and felt soft fabric, partially covering a mat of coarse, strong fibers. She remembered what it was without conscious effort: a tether, improvised from a portion of her dress.

"Shadow?" she called. Her voice sounded surprisingly close, as if she were indoors; the void swallowed up sound like thick carpet or soil, returning no echoes.

"Hm?" The cord jerked slightly as Shadow turned toward her, secured to its far end. A cyan glow appeared over his shoulder. For a moment, Cosmo thought she saw complex patterns forming and shifting within the Chaos Emerald's depths; seconds later, the radiance subsided somewhat into a faint, stable glow.

"Where are we?" Cosmo asked, more to fill the space than anything; she had mainly wanted to confirm beyond doubt that her memories were real.

"Farther," Shadow replied. He grabbed the tether and pulled himself around to face her. After a few seconds of silence, he held the Emerald at chest level and stared at it intently. Cosmo looked around – only the brightest stars were visible now – and tried in vain to spot something familiar. The densest regions, as before, were in the direction from which they had come – the galactic core.

A sudden thought occurred to her. "Shadow, how are we breathing?" she asked, turning back to her fellow traveler.

Shadow blinked as if coming out of a reverie. "I have us shielded so that everything we breathe out is contained, and this," he indicated the Emerald, "takes care of the inverse reactions. I do it to myself unconsciously; extending it to you isn't difficult."

"Talking, too?" she asked. The hedgehog shook his head.

"Pay attention. Can you really hear me right now?"

Cosmo hesitated. His voiced, she realized then, sounded directionless, as if it came from all around her. "The shield?" she ventured.

"Correct."

He returned his attention to the Emerald. "What do you think is going to happen to us?" Cosmo asked after a pause. Shadow looked up again.

"I'm working on it," he answered, suddenly sounding mildly annoyed. "If you have any more questions, ask them now; I need to concentrate."

"I'm so-" Cosmo stopped, catching the look Shadow gave her. "No, that's all," she said instead. After a few moments, Shadow broke eye contact and resumed staring at the glowing gem. Cosmo watched with interest. A minute or so later, she realized the glow had brightened again and the strange fluctuating patterns had returned. Shadow watched them with rapt attention, murmuring inaudibly, his eyes flitting back and forth as if reading meaning in the lights. Cosmo watched as well, becoming entranced by the motions. They were erratic and never repeated themselves exactly, and yet there was a subtle logic and regularity governing them, a rhythm felt rather than observed. It transfixed her, drawing her in until she perceived its full depth – multiple layers and dimensions of meaning, all seemingly just beyond her reach.

Eventually some kind of threshold was crossed; the patterns' tempo quickened, gaining strength, building on itself, advancing toward a goal. Cosmo leaned forward unconsciously, intently, as the activity rose to a peak... and was abruptly pulled away with a sense of disruption much greater than the actual movement itself. Shadow had raised the Emerald and directed its bottommost tip at a point somewhere ahead of them, apparently gazing straight through the crystal matrix.

"There."

Cosmo shook her head, dispelling the mild trance her mind had fallen into, and looked in the direction of Shadow's arm. He could have been pointing at any of several dozen stars. "Um..." she began, not sure whether she would still be interrupting.

"Our destination," Shadow answered her unspoken question. Without further explanation, he tugged on the cord and set himself drifting toward her, undoing his own tether. Cosmo decided not to ask what he was planning, but allowed herself to be maneuvered by the occasional push or steadying hold. After a number of minutes, Shadow had turned the tether into a complicated harness, apparently designed to keep Cosmo's limbs and clothing from moving more than a few inches from her body.

"What's this for?" she asked when Shadow appeared finished. It struck her that Shadow was no longer attached to her, only holding onto the cord's free end.

"Mechanics." He didn't elaborate. Gripping the last of the strip in both hands, he pulled it across its width. The fabric parted with a ripping sound, forming a net of partially woven strings stretched between the tougher supporting fibers. This became a fist-sized sling into which Shadow placed his Emerald.

"Listen carefully," the hedgehog began. "It's important that you stay more or less the same shape you are now, or this isn't going to work. Keep your back and legs straight. If you move your arms, use only your elbows. Don't try to adjust the harness."

"Where are you going?" Cosmo interrupted, suddenly nervous. She didn't want to be left alone again – not out here, where, unlike on any planet, the emptiness was real.

Shadow handed her the Emerald's sling. "Can you hear that?" he inquired, not answering her question.

Cosmo didn't answer; a flicker of activity within the crystal had distracted her. It wasn't like it had been before; the motion was formless and fluid, conveying simple thoughts and feelings. _I am here,_ it said. _Who are you?_ She wasn't sure how to reply. After what seemed like a long time, the Seedrian remembered Shadow's question and gave a slow nod, never taking her eyes off of the gem.

"Listen to it," she heard as if from a great distance. "Do as it says. It'll keep you safe."

With an effort of will that felt like pulling herself out of water, Cosmo turned away from the Emerald to see Shadow moving toward her feet. "When are you coming back?" she asked. She wasn't afraid anymore, strangely, but she thought she ought to know.

"In time," was Shadow's only reply. He maneuvered into a crouch with his feet against hers. "Lock your knees and keep still; we only get one shot." Realizing what he planned to do, Cosmo obeyed, bracing for the coming acceleration.

Shadow remained still, moving his head very slightly like a metronome – counting seconds. Just as Cosmo began to wonder if he was having second thoughts, he tensed and – with considerably less force than she expected – sprang into deep space, propelling both of them silently toward their targets.

* * *

><p>During my first stay on Möbius, I was intrigued by the collection of techniques known as "Chaos Control" and their potential to seemingly redefine reality. I devoted considerable thought and study to the phenomenon, thinking that if I could extract the fundamentals of the process, I could crack the very deepest puzzles of life and the multiverse.<p>

In summary, I never fully succeeded. However, my investigations did uncover a lot of relationships that weren't obvious at first glance. For one, it seems that while the technology – for, as strange as Chaos Control is, it has the mark of intelligent design – is poorly understood, the effects are easier to duplicate. There must be a supply of energy, the means to convert it, and a controller able to direct this conversion.

Sounds simple, right? The problem seems to be the enormous amount of detail that has to be handled by the controller. Nothing less than an organic computer – a brain – has ever managed it that I know of, and the digital computers used to handle such massive energy supplies are notoriously bad at interfacing with them.

From my research, there seem to be three primary methods for making Chaos Control work. The first is to make the controller as straightforward as possible, so it can be toggled by a simple analog process, like a switch. The main problem with these devices is that their functions have to be correspondingly simple; the user typically doesn't have much more freedom than "on" or "off." Besides, very few such converters can handle the magnitudes of power involved, and even they have to be produced through reverse engineering. They do have their uses, though, particularly when built into more traditional machines.

The second and most iconic method is to use a converter designed specifically to interface with organic computers. The device links directly with the user, who acts as the controller. From what I've gathered, this is how the Chaos Emeralds operate. However, the formula for these converters is extremely complex; even the best imitations have to be copied directly from real Emeralds. These copies fall short without exception, only surviving a few minutes of use before disintegrating.

The final method is sketchy at best; my knowledge is based entirely on a handful of witnesses. It seems that, with training and the proper constitution, a user can act as a converter as well as a controller and perform Chaos Control with nothing but raw energy to work from. It's easy to see how this could be faked; on the other hand, it has appealing theoretical implications.

You see, the behavior of the Chaos Emeralds – the only known "true" organic interfaces – is exotic and, mathematically speaking, random. I've met people who claim to understand how they tick, and a few have demonstrated it well enough to convince me it isn't pure chance. Try as I might, I can't match them. The Emeralds perplex me like no machine ever has – no machine, that is, except one.

Can you guess?

* * *

><p>Somewhere deep in a gap between galactic arms, a massive object hurtled through interstellar space with untold speed, creating only the slightest of disturbances in the diffuse gas clouds through which it passed. It emitted almost no radiation; indeed, it very nearly qualified as one more tiny blip among the seas of baryonic dark matter that filled the space between star systems. These clouds contained the mass of about a million hydrogen atoms per cubic meter – a hard vacuum in comparison to a planet's atmosphere, but still hundreds of thousands of times denser than the universe as a whole.<p>

Shadow floated in a kind of semiconscious meditation, keeping his mind clear of anything that might distract him. Interstellar density had been just one variable in his calculations, and over such distances, it was a significant one. The cyan light of the Emerald had long since vanished into the background; Cosmo would have lost sight of him after mere seconds. His calculations for the Seedrian's path had been just as meticulous. In the long term, their destination was the same, but two factors had dictated their separation.

The first was a simple physical law. The net momentum of a closed system could not change without external influence. Shadow's and Cosmo's combined center of mass was still on the same trajectory as when they had been tied together, interstellar gas notwithstanding.

The second revealed itself to Shadow as a glint of light ahead of him, letting him know he was precisely on target. He roused himself and oriented his body toward the flash. After a moment, he discerned the objects of his interest.

About seventy yards ahead and moving gradually closer, a pair of metallic gold rings drifted. Their trajectories were not simple and straight, but curved – a double helix about two feet wide, slightly elliptical, traced as the two bands circled their shared axis.

As Shadow drew closer to the rings – his own equipment, discarded during the final moments of the Fall – two silver strips embedded just above his wrists began emitting a faint glow. The inner surface of each ring responded in kind. The light grew slowly, obscuring some of the dimmer stars, as the rings came close enough to make out distorted reflections in their surfaces.

Moving suddenly and rapidly, Shadow extended a hand and caught one ring out of its orbit; the other swung around in a wide arc, passed close by the first like a miniature comet, swung out again, and landed neatly beside its fellow. Their owner allowed himself a moment of satisfaction; there was little chance of failure now.

Moving carefully, Shadow slid one of the rings over his left hand. The dock in his arm, now shining to rival a sixty-watt bulb, pulled like a powerful magnet. He let go, and the ring flew into the proper alignment; a circle of ports snapped onto the inner surface, masking the glow instantly. Shadow watched the tiny actuators angle forward so that the ring rested against the base of his hand. A set of red plates fanned out and interlinked, enclosing his wrist and lower forearm in a metal bracer.

Shadow flexed his left hand and made a fist. Nothing caught or jammed. He performed the same procedure on his right arm, plunging the surrounding space into darkness except for the distant, omnipresent stars. He felt the other bracer knit together, followed quickly by a satisfying surge of vitality. He inhaled deeply; it brought a similar sensation, not to mention it was a relief in itself after rationing his manufactured air for so long.

For the moment, Shadow simply drifted, letting his energy reserves build up. It wasn't at all rare for him to pass out completely without his bracers; having to not only stay awake, but maintain an air supply for himself from his perpetually dwindling strength had felt uncomfortably like trying to survive underwater on a single held breath.

_Presumably,_ he amended himself. He had never had to do it.

* * *

><p><em>How long has it been?<em>

Cosmo wasn't sure. Every time she looked around, it was the same – stars, star clusters, and the occasional bright nebula separated by expansive voids – never the same way twice, but never giving any clear indication of her progress. She had a feeling she may have slept for part of the journey, perhaps several times, but it was difficult to tell when her moments of awareness began or ended. Truth be told, she didn't really know if there was a difference anymore.

She had done as Shadow asked and listened to the Chaos Emerald she carried with her. She knew what he meant, so finding more than the silence of deep space came as little surprise. What surprised her was how much the Emerald had to say.

_You never told me,_ was the first thing she heard. _Who are you?_

"Cosmo," she said aloud, then remembered that she was alone. The thought had appeared in her mind so clearly and abruptly that she mistook it for a sound. It even seemed to have a voice; the Seedrian wasn't consciously reminded of anyone, but it nonetheless felt familiar._ I'm Cosmo,_ she tried again.

_Is that all?_

This time, Cosmo's eyes caught a flicker of light within the Emerald's depths. It was very subtle, but the supreme darkness made every fluctuation much more visible. The voice hadn't been in her imagination, and that knowledge was reassuring. _Cosmo is all anyone calls me,_ she replied.

_I know what they call you. Who _are_ you?_

Cosmo, expecting more of the simple statements and instructions given by the Planet Egg, was caught off guard. _What do you mean?_

_I mean who you _are_._

_I don't know what that is._

_Then we should find out._

As they conversed, Cosmo found herself slipping into to the dream-like trance she had experienced before. This time, the Emerald spoke a simpler language that she understood with ease – a language of pure impression that became more and more abstract the longer it lasted. At some point, with no definite moment of transformation, the language was no longer any different from thought. It might have been a dream, or many dreams, or a memory, or any combination; it was all the same.

* * *

><p><em>Time to return.<em>

The words roused Cosmo like a loud noise; she looked around, trying to find her bearings. There were still stars on every side, but a new and unfamiliar sight had joined them.

Taking up nearly a third of Cosmo's field of view was a spot where no light shone – vast, blank, and almost perfectly round. The shadow was bordered on one side by a brilliant, hair-thin line of pure white and a subtler fringe of pale orange. The sight was awe-inspiring and frightening, as if the very space before her had opened up and devoured a part of itself.

_How is that possible?_ Cosmo wondered. _Does it even matter anymore? Is this where it stops making any difference?_

The Chaos Emerald gave no sign of answering, and the old mechanics of individual thought were slow to respond. Before Cosmo could start to seriously consider the question, something else drew her attention.

Along the illuminated edge of the void, slightly below the midpoint of the arc, a visibly redder tinge appeared and slowly spread, tinting more and more of the surrounding color. The hazy region expanded and brightened around the same point, creating a deep crimson bulge in the sliver of light.

Cosmo squinted as the glow started to hurt her eyes; the bulge contorted, scattering into a tangle of loops and curves that shuddered with the slightest movement. She blinked, and the vision condensed into a vertical bar crossed by a smaller spindle of ghostly fibers. Where the two intersected, she discerned a semicircle of fiery scarlet, shimmering as if seen through water. As she watched, the shape moved, expanding slowly but unmistakeably until it detached itself completely from the shadow's margin and formed a full circle, blazing defiantly against the darkness on every side.

Transfixed by the sight, Cosmo watched without even trying to comprehend. Something at the edge of her vision drew her attention; the Chaos Emerald floated before her, glowing brightly in its now-familiar shade of blue. Averting her eyes from the light, she saw her own body lit up in scarlet. At the same moment, Cosmo's state of mind altered subtly. Her thoughts took shape more clearly, and the lingering suspicions of unreality started to seem absurd.

"Where am I?" she wondered aloud, the vacuum swallowing her words – although, she noticed, she was still able to breathe. She examined the spot of blackness again, trying to make sense of it, but it was only a few seconds before she was distracted yet again.

A second light flared up slightly above the first, this one a brilliant yellow that rapidly grew to surpass its companion. As if in response, the Emerald brightened threefold, throwing out a curtain of iridescent green that streamed off into space. The entire visible spectrum of color met Cosmo's eyes for the first time since her regeneration, bringing with it a surge of fresh energy and vigor as powerfully euphoric as if she were being regenerated all over again. It struck her that she had never fully appreciated the feeling before – for it was a feeling she knew, and knew unmistakeably. She lifted a hand, blocking all but a few cracks of the light that was becoming far too strong to look at. In spite of all the danger, fear, and uncertainty trying to access her newly awakened mind, Cosmo smiled.

As familiar as the feeling was, Cosmo had never managed to recall enough of it to relive the moment in any meaningful capacity. No method of communication could capture more than the meekest glimmer of the experience. There could be no more doubt that Cosmo was alive, awake, and every bit as real as she had ever been, now that she felt it again. Not even dreams could reproduce it, for all dreams yielded to it when it arrived.

Daybreak.

* * *

><p><strong>Beyond this point, chapters will appear as they (and XT's counterparts) are completed. Oh, and that crazy kaleidoscope thing?<strong> I actually sat down and squinted at a light fixture to come up with that.<strong>**

******Write to you later, folks.**


End file.
